Pick up the pieces
by FusososoLaugh
Summary: Illia doesn't remember much about her childhood. She doesn't know why her Mother won't tell her about her Dad or why she seemingly hates her. It's brought her into a life of depression and confusion. Little does she know that she is about to uncover her family's secret involving the infamous nations of the world!


I feel like I'm being hidden.

Like hide and seek, I feel like someone's out there, trying to find me.

But they can't, I'm right there, before their eyes and they're looking right through me.

I'm closed off to the world, trying to find my way out, but someone is holding me back. I see their face, their eyes a blank stare, their mouth a grimace. Why is that face so familiar? Everywhere I look in this dark room the face is there. Staring at nothing, frowning at everyone. Oh, yes I remember now.

That's me.

"Illia!"

I look up from my journal. What does she want now? What could be so important?

"What do you want?"

I hear her scoff, I can feel her scowling at me. What did I do wrong this time?

"Don't talk to me that way, Illia. You have no idea what I go through to keep you happy!"

Well, you certainly are failing at that _Mother_. Can't you see I am the most unhappy person on the planet? What will it take for you to see that...?

"I honestly believe you don't have any respect for me."

"Because I don't respect people that don't tell me things. I don't respect people that lie about my family. I don't respect people that believe they are superior to others. And I honestly DO NOT respect people who think everything is fine, when they know it isn't!"

I stood up, grabbing my journal and coat. I glared at my Mother, she thought she ruled over me because we were related. I would never listen to her. Not because I hate her. Because she won't tell me what happenend to Dad. I readjusted my glasses and walked over to the door.

"Where do you think you're going Illia?"

I glared back at her face. Her _stupid_ face. Her brown hair was up in a bun, strands falling into her face. Gray eyes narrowed. Her worn face wore a permanent scowl. Was that scowl out of hatred? Annoyance? Worry? It doesn't matter.

"Out."

"Out?! There is nothing but forest for miles!"

"Exactly."

I opened the door and walked out, slamming it behind me. It was windy outside, my golden hair was whipping around in the wind. I pulled out a red ribbon from my jacket's pocket and tied my hair into a low ponytail. It helped a bit, some strands still flying into my face. Questions flowed through my mind.

Why does Mom hate me? Why did she lie about Dad? Is there something more to my life?

I feel like there is. Pieces are missing. Big pieces. My life is like one big puzzle. The puzzle pieces are slowly being taken away. By who? I can't remember anything. I can't remember their faces. Their faces are blank canvases. Where did they go? I feel like I _need _to know them. But why? Why are they important?

I stopped in my tracks. I looked down at the ground. The wind seemed to be blowing harder. I didn't notice the yelling coming from a few feet in front of me. I didn't notice the flashing lights. I didn't hear my name being called out over the wind.

Why are they so important?

I felt someone grip my arm. I looked back and saw my Mother's face. I stared at the gun in her hand. I stared at her manic smile. I stared as she slowly lifted the gun up to my head. I stared as she yelled something over the wind. I was right there. I couldn't hear her. Was it the wind? Or was I deliberately trying to block out her voice? I stared in front of me. There were more than a few police cars in a clearing that I didn't know exsisted. I saw a man in a bomber jacket pointing a gun at me? My Mother? Why was he crying? The police car lights were illuminating his tears making them clearly visible in the night. I noticed a police officer behind a nearby tree ready to shoot. Did my Mother see him?

Something clicked in my head. My Mother was trying to kill me. This was a hostage situation. Why? Was it out of hatred? Anger? Fear? Was I supposed to cry...? I heard a gunshot and the grip on my arm loosened. I heard a second and a sharp pain erupted in my left arm. I looked at ground. I noticed a dark puddle start to form around my left foot. I knew she hated me. I bet she hated Dad too...

I felt someone tug on my right arm. It was the man in the bomber jacket. His face was clearly distressed. He quickly pulled me into a hug. Did I know him? I think I do...but from where? My arm hurts. I feel tired, really tired. I closed my eyes and fell into his arms. How do I know I can trust him? I'll think about it when I wake up...

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**A/N**

**I'm sorry this is so short! I had a rough time starting off... But once I get going I promise they will be longer! Tell me how I'm doing, OK? I love feedback, even if they're flames. Gosh, I feel like this was too depressing. I like it! :D**

**I don't know about you, but I love extensive author's notes. If I love them, there must be someone out there who loves them too. SSSSSSSSSSsssss IMMA SSSSSSSSSSNAKEE! Hear me roar. Meow. **

**DID YOU KNOW- Cheetahs chirp? **

**I heard from a friend that there was a soda machine in Japan(snicker) that if you hug it, it gives you free soda. That's pretty AWESOME.**

**DID YOU KNOW- Everytime you say the word 'awesome', that a German albino sneezes?**

**Okay I'm done. I might not get this chapters out very fast because I can only get on the computer on the weekends when I'm at my Dad's house. So, that sucks.**

**~ F.L.**


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